


Tony Stark's Guide to Scenic Cardiff

by MiladyDragon



Series: Dragon-Verse: Series Three [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Humor, Language, Multi, Tony Stark-centric, Torchwood - Worst Kept Secret in Cardiff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyDragon/pseuds/MiladyDragon
Summary: All Tony Stark wanted to do was find this super-secret alien-fighting organisation that Coulson got his information on the Daleks from.  He didn't expect to find what he did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the Third Series, after the story, "A Conversation Between Two Directors", although nothing in that story impacts this one. Much. What this is really is a sequel to "The Stolen Earth Incident".

 

**_1 November 2009_ **

****

Tony Stark sighed as he made his way toward the hotel bar, slipping off the designer sunglasses as he crossed the lobby and removing his coat.  He was tired after another day of fruitless searching and just wanted to get a drink.

He’d been in Cardiff for a week.  He had to admit, it was a nice place, and he’d actually considered getting a home or something in the area.  The city was a mix of old and new, and while Tony would deny it to his dying day the place had a certain charm.  He thought about asking Pepper to take a look at property costs in the area; a vacation home might be just the right ticket.

Hell, he’d even thought about buying the hotel he was staying at, because the St David’s was one of the better places he’d ever gotten a room in.  Not that he really thought the owners would sell, but he had played with the idea of making an offer and seeing just how riled up he could get whoever owned the place.

When he’d first come up with the idea to come to Cardiff, he’d known he wouldn’t have an easy time of it.  Searching for a super-secret alien fighting organisation in a city this size was bound to have been like looking for a needle in a haystack.  JARVIS had tried his hardest to narrow things down a bit, but Tony had finally decided that boots on the ground might actually get him somewhere.

Yeah, right.

And so, he’d gotten in far more sightseeing than he’d ever planned, but there hadn’t been a damned thing that had screamed, _Here we are!,_ that he could point to and proclaim his hunting over.

JARVIS was suitably apologetic at his lack of success, but Tony couldn’t blame him.  His AI had managed to locate whoever had sent that file on the Daleks to SHIELD once, but after that security had gotten far too tight and the electronic path that JARVIS had used had vanished.  Whoever had done it was a genius on par with himself, and the idea of meeting them was the only thing keeping him in Cardiff when Pepper had been constantly on his case to return to New York for the meetings he kept missing about the new tower he wanted to build there.

Still, Cardiff had intrigued him.  He’d managed enough research into the area, and he’d discovered that the city was a hotbed for weird…if the sources he and JARVIS had found online had been accurate.  Just the more modern things included: the wild weather in the 70’s, that had snow in June and in the next week a heatwave that had lasted almost a year; that weird hurricane back in the 1980’s; the earthquake and lightning storm in 2006 that had been focussed on the city itself; more crazy weather patterns in 2008, that had rain popping up in odd places all over and then suddenly ending; and yet another earthquake just last year that mysteriously opened a trench to the ocean that flooded the local nuclear power plant, which had, according to rumour, been on the cusp of a meltdown, and then had closed itself up just as mysteriously. 

That last thing had actually happened; Tony had been out to the site, and had seen the lake with its accompanying ‘Keep Out – Danger’ signs all over the place.  A bit more research had brought up the environmental studies and a contract for clean-up being paid for by the actual, honest-to-shit, Queen of England herself.

Then there was the high rate of gas leaks, terrorist attacks, and riots that seemed to occur _all the fucking time_.  The last had been a major attack at the beginning of 2009, which actually coincided with the earthquake that had flooded the power station.  Surprisingly, there had been very little loss of life, and no terrorists had come forward to take credit.  That shit didn’t make sense, because Tony knew that terrorists just loved to trumpet the chaos they were responsible for.

But that wasn’t all.

There was the unexplained shit.

Ghost sightings, strange lights in the sky, haunted buildings…and a TV show that had actually come to Cardiff in order to investigate dragon sightings over the city.  JARVIS had tried to digitally clean up the photo that had ended up online and had triggered the TV crew to come over to check things out, but there really was only so much one could do with something taken by a low-end camera phone.

It was too bad that it hadn’t been a Stark phone.  Then everyone would’ve been able to tell what that green blob had _really_ been, because to Tony it looked more like something from a bad 50’s sci-fi movie than any sort of mythical creature.

Cardiff was a fascinating place.  Tony could very easily see himself living there, if just to be on the ground floor of all that crazy.

The bar was fairly empty at that time of the day.  It was after lunch and before dinner…Tony didn’t quite grasp the idea of ‘teatime’ yet, but he was working on it.  There was one bartender on duty, and he gave a large smile as the genius approached.  Tony slid onto a stool near the end of the fancy wooden bar, with its warm wood and brass fittings, and returned the smile with a cocky one of his own. 

“Your usual, Mr Stark?” the young man asked.  Tony found himself a bit enamoured of the Welsh accent, if he was honest with himself.

“Set me up,” he answered.  He’d been there every day after his ‘sightseeing’ trip.  Today, he’d spent most of it up at the castle, which would have been interesting if he’d been into history.  Sure, a castle was quite possibly the last place someone would have suspected an elite alien-fighting taskforce would be hiding out, which meant it was perfect for just that sort of thing in his opinion.

The glass of Scotch was set down in front of him, on its fancy napkin.  Tony took a sip, pleased at the burn it had going down.  Whoever supplied the booze for the St David’s had excellent taste.

“Are you going to be with us much longer?” the bartender enquired as he wiped his hands on a towel that he’d draped over one shoulder. 

Tony took a moment to admire the scenery – because, really, the guy was pretty hot, and if he didn’t already have a girlfriend back in New York he would have totally tapped _that_ – then answered, “Not sure.” He snorted. “Unless you happen to know where I can find a super-secret group of alien hunters…”

He’d meant the question to be completely and totally sarcastic, but the answer he got had him freezing in shock.

“Oh, you mean Torchwood then?”

His face must have shown his utter surprise, because the bartender went on, “I’m guessing you mean Torchwood, right?  Because they’re the only ones who match your description.”

Tony narrowed his eyes.  “Are you putting me on?”

The bartender shook his head, looking totally innocent for having just dropped _that_ particular bombshell in Tony’s lap.  “Torchwood’s the worst kept secret in Cardiff.  No one knows exactly what they do, but if it’s aliens that’s not a surprise.  All we know is they show up when weird stuff happens.”  He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice.  “My Grandmam tells this story about a haunted dance hall, back during World War Two…she says she met this bloke back then who vanished in a blaze of light, but then she saw him again just last year, not changed a day and driving that big black car Torchwood rides around in.”  He stood back, shrugging.  “If there’s anything spooky going on in Cardiff, Torchwood is there.”

No _fucking_ way was it that easy.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “all I had to do was mention what I was looking for and someone could have told me?”

The man shrugged.  “Don’t know about anyone, but yeah, sure.  A lot of people know about Torchwood, especially if they grew up in the area.  Like I said, it’s the worst kept secret in Cardiff.”

Tony would have sworn the guy was pulling one over on him, except for two things: one, he was completely and utterly sincere; and two, it sounded just outrageous enough to be true.

“So,” he said, trying to act nonchalant and yet wanting to reach across the bar and shake the guy for what he wanted to know, “how do I find this Torchwood?”

“Don’t know exactly where their base is, but we all know it’s out on the Bay near Mermaid Quay.”

Tony didn’t know where that was, so he asked.

“Just down from Roald Dahl Plass,” the bartender directed.

Oh, he’d passed that one on of his many rambles, trying to find that tell-tale sign that said, _Secret Base Here,_ with a handy arrow pointing the way.  He’d had JARVIS find out just who or what Roald Dahl was; he’d been surprised to know that he’d been the author of the book that _Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_ was based on.

To be honest, he’d only known about the Gene Wilder film.  Tony didn’t take a lot of time to read, and he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d actually sat down with a book that wasn’t some sort of technical journal.

Yeah, the Plass was that place with all the fancy light poles, the water tower, and that building…the one that Tony wanted to hunt down the architect for and hire them to work on his tower in New York.  Because, while he didn’t much care for all that fancy lettering, the Millennium Centre looked really cool.

Well, it looked like he finally had a place to start looking, unless the bartender was the best liar in the world and he was sending Tony on a wild goose chase.

He’d finish his drink first.  Just in case.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**_1 November 2009_ **

****

The taxi deposited Tony just off Roald Dahl Plass.  It was just getting onto dinner time, but there were still quite a crowd about the Plass, despite the growing darkness and cold of evening.  Tony strolled past the Millennium Centre – still admiring the architecture – through the Plass and down toward the waters of Cardiff Bay.

He felt a bit like a tourist, which should have bothered him but really didn’t, because not even Tony Stark was quite that jaded _yet_.  Besides, he wanted pictures to show Pepper, and not because he was using his camera phone to snoop around.

There was a set of steps down onto the actual Quay, and Tony made his way down, eyes on the water beyond.  Along the Quay were several docks, where pleasure boats were drawn up, their lights coming on as he leaned against the railing, the chill ocean breeze ruffling his hair, making him glad he’d thought to bring his heavier coat with him.  Sure, it was November, and they were in the Northern Hemisphere, but he honestly hadn’t paid that much attention to the weather reports when he’d finally had time to make this trip.

Really, it was an odd place for an alien special ops team to be hanging out, with it being a tourist attraction and all; restaurants and stores were doing a brisk business, the faint sound of music coming to Tony’s ears over the waves and the wind.  It was surprisingly peaceful, really.

“Have you got into the CCTV network yet?” he murmured into the Bluetooth that sat on his ear, his link to JARVIS.  He’d been pleasantly surprised at the amount of surveillance cameras, not only around the Plass, but in the entire city itself.

 _“Not as yet, Sir,”_ the artificial intelligence answered, sounding chagrined at his failure.  _“Judging from the amount and quality of the security protecting the systems in this area, though, I should not hesitate to surmise that we have the correct location.”_

Well, that was something, at least. 

“Let’s go for a stroll and see what we can shake loose.”

Fitting action to words, Tony headed down the Quay.  The businesses were on a raised area above the Quay itself, and the sounds of people floated down toward him as he walked.  The Quay seemed to end just ahead, and a cheery light over a door in the seawall beckoned him forward.

His mistake; the Quay didn’t stop at that door.  A set of stairs meandered upward from just off to the side, leading toward the various restaurants and shops that looked down upon the quayside.

A small, tasteful-looking plaque beside the door read, “Mermaid Quay Tourist Information Centre”, with hours listed for business.  It was still open, according to Tony’s watch, but it would be closing shortly.

The keypad that had been discretely set into the wall next to the door seemed a little too much security for such a place, though.

“Well,” Tony muttered, “this is certainly handy.”

The door was unlocked when he tried the knob, which meant they hadn’t decided to close up early.

Stepping into the small office, Tony was hit with warmth and light and the scent of ocean breeze and lavender. There was a counter that ran about two-thirds of the way along the front, a computer taking up a large area on the countertop and a phone set beside it, a spinning metal holder with keyrings and other tchotchkes hanging from it on the far end.  Various racks with postcards, brochures, and maps were along one wall, just under colourful posters advertising various sights and events in the area.  There was even a shelf with t-shirts on it behind the counter.  The place had a homey feel to it, despite being geared to tourists.

There was a young woman behind the counter, and she greeted Tony with a bright smile, showing a charming set of dimples.  Blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, dark eyes meeting his and looking very pleased to see him.  The girl wore a dark blue suit jacket, crisp white blouse, and a small nametag on her lapel that read ‘Deborah’.

“Welcome to Mermaid Quay,” she said happily.  Her accent wasn’t local, though, which was a shame.  “How can I help you today?”

Tony leaned on the counter, grinning at her insouciantly.  “Well, Deborah…you can tell me where to find Torchwood.”

Deborah laughed.  “Oh dear.  Someone’s told you about that, have they?”  She shook her head.  “Honestly, I get about a person a day asking after Torchwood, and all I can say is, whoever told you about them was having a joke, Sir.  There’s no such thing as Torchwood.  Now, if you wanted to know about the latest concert at the Millennium Centre, I’ll be happy to set you up with tickets.”

Either she was just really good at lying, or else she was telling the truth.  Still, the bartender had seemed completely reliable, but if it _had_ been some sort of joke…

“See,” he drawled, “if there was something hinky going on around here, and you knew about it, you’d say just that, wouldn’t you?”

He could tell that Deborah was amused by him, and while Tony would usually consider it a good night if that happened with a cute girl, he wasn’t in the mood for it today.  He’d been all over Cardiff, and no matter how charming he found the place his patience was wearing thin.  He wanted to find what he was looking for, and get the answers he’d been trying to find for almost a year now.

“I suppose so,” the young woman answered.  “But I could be honest and letting you know that you’ve been pranked.  It happens quite frequently.  I’m not sure why the local businesses do it, but they’ll send people to the Quay looking for this Torchwood place.  When, as you can see,” she gestured around the tiny room, “there isn’t enough room in here to fling a cat, let alone run some sort of shadow government agency.”

“Yes, and I see your point.  But I know for a fact that something is here, in this city, and I have proof of it.  I’m going to find it, too.”

Deborah was beginning to look a little less amused.  “Well, whatever you’re looking for, it isn’t here.  I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t help you find something that doesn’t exist.”

The thing was, he _knew_ it did.  He’d seen those files that SHIELD had gotten from some sort of mysterious contact, all about the aliens who called themselves Daleks and had managed to move the Earth to an entirely different area in space.  JARVIS had back traced the information to Cardiff, but then hadn’t found anything else…no reflection on him, of course; the AI could only locate something if he had an information trail to follow, and these people were damned good at covering their tracks.   This was the first real lead he’d had in a week, and he’d have had it a lot sooner if he’d only decided to make that off-hand comment to his bartender several days ago.

Tony was about to say something cutting when the door behind him opened, and a gust of chilly air whistled through the office. 

“Deborah, I…oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were busy with a customer.”

The voice was Welsh, and male, and Tony turned and found himself staring at a young man, with light curly hair and pale eyes, and who was several inches taller than Tony himself was.  He was wearing a wool coat over a black suit that had to have been bought off the rack, which was a bit rumpled as if he’d been wearing it all day and hadn’t been too worried about his appearance. 

“It’s fine, Andy,” Deborah assured the man.  “Someone’s been playing silly buggers again and sent this person looking for Torchwood.”

The man – Andy – snorted.  “Bloody hell.  We had one down at the CID the other day, asking the same thing.  It’s embarrassing, it is.  The DCI sent him away with a bug in his ear and a warning about practical jokers.”

Oh, this man was police, then.  Tony guessed some sort of detective, if he was plainclothes, but he wasn’t all that familiar with the Welsh cops and their ranking system, and hadn’t done anything to get himself arrested…so far.  About the only thing he did know, he’d gotten from watching television…when he wasn’t being brilliant and inventing shit, of course. 

“I do apologise, Sir,” the cop said earnestly.  “It’s just that, somehow, Cardiff’s gotten this reputation for spooky do’s and the citizens aren’t above playing into it sometimes.”

Alright, now was the time that Tony could admit to himself that he was just a bit confused.  He’d been so sure, what with the bartender and what JARVIS had said about the security cameras…and here were two people, sounding completely and utterly sincere, telling him that he’d been had. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Deborah said, “but I was about to close up when you came in.”

Andy glanced at his watch.  “Yeah, the movie’s gonna start in about thirty minutes…”

“Don’t let me make you late for your date, then,” Tony replied, trying to make it sound as if he didn’t mind that someone had just played a really good joke on him. 

Really, he should have seen it.  That one off-the-cuff comment he’d made had shown he was some sort of gullible tourist, and the bartender had played into that, spinning a yarn about a mysterious organisation and a grandmother who’d been some sort of witness to a guy that looked like someone she’d met back during the war.

And geez, what sort of name was Torchwood anyway?

Still, something was setting his bullshit alarm off, but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

**_2 November 2009_ **

****

After a couple of hours’ sleep and some more research from JARVIS, Tony had pretty much figured out that the whole ‘city loves to play pranks on visitors’ shtick was for the birds.

To be fair, JARVIS tried his best.  About the only places that the word ‘Torchwood’ showed up was on some pretty crazy conspiracy theory websites, which Tony had learned a long time ago to take with a grain of salt the size of Manhattan.  Still, at the bottom of the crazy there had to have been some kernel of truth, which JARVIS was trying to separate from the bullshit.

If he distilled it all down to its essence: there was a Torchwood. 

In fact, there had been several Torchwoods, including one in London that apparently had gotten the crap blown out of it in some sort of alien invasion.  The official records said terrorist attack – and there seemed to be a lot of that going around in the UK – but there had been eyewitness reports of metal men and pepper pot things – he was so sharing _that_ one with Pepper – that resembled the self-same Daleks that had moved the planet to another section of the cosmos.  Apparently, there had been only twenty-seven survivors out of over one thousand involved in that shit-show.

There was also a Torchwood House somewhere up in Scotland.  The MacLeish family had lived there for ages, until the Crown had taken it over and now it was some sort of tourist attraction.  The genius seriously doubted anything was going on up there, since Torchwood was so secret and everything they wouldn’t want the odd visitor stumbling over whatever the hell was going on.  Unless that was just some sort of awesome cover.

That left Torchwood in Cardiff.

That was the Torchwood that seemed to be showing up on the conspiracy sites these days.  Even if Tony believed one percent of what JARVIS had managed to dig up, then they really were what he’d been looking for. 

He supposed that made a sort of sense.  All the craziness that Cardiff had been gossiped about could most likely be tracked back to Torchwood.  Only, there wasn’t anything official out there that JARVIS could find.  He’d even taken a swipe at the SHIELD servers, since it was obvious that Fury and Coulson at least knew about it because of those files Coulson had shared with him about the Daleks, but JARVIS had claimed he wouldn’t be able to hack them without inside help.  One of these days, Tony was going to get access somewhere and then watch out…

JARVIS had also offered to try to get into UNIT’s computer system, and Tony had set him to it.  He hadn’t heard back from his AI yet, but if anyone could do it, it was JARVIS.

Tony, though, wasn’t about to wait around in his hotel room and sit on his ass while JARVIS did all the work. 

Which was how he’d found himself back out on the Plass, staking out that Tourist Office for anything even remotely suspicious.

He managed to find a café that was just over the tiny office, and luckily for him there was a bench that had a decent view of the Quay below.  He got some breakfast and a really large coffee, and sat down to wait, the sun warm on his head even though the ocean breeze was pretty cold.

Tony must have gotten there after the girl at the counter in the Tourist Office, because he didn’t see her arrive.  Honestly, he’d found his post after opening time, so that wasn’t a surprise. 

 _“I think I might have found a way into the local CCTV network,”_ JARVIS reported over Tony’s Bluetooth, _“although I cannot guarantee I will be in for long.”_

“As long as you can, J.  If we can get some images of people coming and going…”  He didn’t have to say what they’d do with those images; JARVIS would understand.

_“Of course, Sir.  I do have to admit, however, that our facial recognition software is somewhat primitive compared to some.”_

JARVIS sounded completely put out by that admission, and Tony couldn’t blame him.  But JARVIS was right; facial recognition software wasn’t something that the genius had put any thought into, and therefore it was somewhat lacking.

He’d have to do something about that when he got back home.

Tony watched as people came and went down below, none of them looking at all like a top secret special ops team would look.  Of course, that didn’t mean anything…after all, top secret special ops would mean that they’d all be undercover or something. 

He’d been sitting there for about two hours when a polite Welsh voice broke into his surveillance mind-set.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

The billionaire did not jump in surprise.  Nope, not at all.  “What?”

The man standing there was young, with dark hair and blue eyes that seemed older than his face.  The dark blue, three-piece suit he was wearing was more along Tony’s own expensive tastes, and it was paired with a vibrant pink shirt and equally dark blue tie.  His handsome face was smiling politely, yet there was something that seemed vaguely like amusement in his gaze.  “You’ve been here for a couple of hours now, Sir.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to move on.”

The Welshman was most likely one of the business owners, wondering why someone who was obviously a tourist had been taking up space there for so long when he hadn’t bought anything since his food and coffee earlier.  It would also explain his lack of a coat, if he’d just come from inside.  Although he didn’t look at all bothered by the cold.

It was a shame to lose his prime people-watching bench, but Tony knew he couldn’t risk getting arrested for loitering.  Wait…did they do that sort of thing in Wales?  Well, he wasn’t about to test it.

“Sorry,” he said, getting to his feet. “You have a lovely city here.”

“Thank you,” the man answered, his smile warming a little.  “I’m glad you’re enjoying your visit to Cardiff.  If you’re looking for events or other venues to see, you can ask at the Tourist Information Centre…it’s just down the way a little.”  He pointed toward the steps that turned down toward the Quay…the same steps he’d noticed last night during his trip to the aforementioned Tourist Office. 

“Thanks, I just might do that.”  The urge to flirt was strong, but Tony held back.  The guy was seriously good looking, better even than the bartender from yesterday, and it was only thinking of it somehow getting back to Pepper – and JARVIS could be a filthy traitor when it suited him – that kept him from saying anything untoward. 

Besides, he didn’t want to get socked in the jaw if the Welshman took offence. 

“I hope you have a good day, then.”  The man nodded, and then headed back toward the coffee shop where Tony had gotten his own drink first thing.

“Damnit,” Tony muttered under his breath. 

He took off down the steps, like the nice man had told him to, but he didn’t make a repeat trip into the Tourist Centre.  Instead, he took off down toward the Plass, thinking about a new post on one of the benches there, even if it meant hanging out in the cold some more.  Yeah, it would be more difficult to tell who was going where, but at least he could still keep an eye out on the Quay. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**_2 November 2009_ **

****

Tony was on his third cup of coffee – he’d found a Starbucks nearby – when a man caught his attention.

He was just about six feet tall, if the genius had to guess.  He was dressed in jeans and a blue button-down, with a well-worn leather jacket over the top and what looked like a hoodie on underneath.  He had thinning brown hair, but from where Tony was seated he couldn’t see the colour of his eyes. 

There was something familiar about him, and Tony couldn’t put his finger on just why.

The man was walking down the Plass, past the water tower and toward the steps heading down toward the Quay.  He was talking on a phone, but Tony was too far away to eavesdrop on the conversation.  Tony itched to get closer, but before he could do just that, because he was always willing to aid and abet his curiosity, the man stopped and turned back the way he’d come, standing like an island in the mass of people who’d been on the Plass despite the cold.

Another man approached.  This one was just a little shorter than the one who was waiting, and was dark-skinned – could you call them African-Americans in the UK? Tony doubted it; maybe African-Britains? – and was in ripped jeans and a pea-coat that looked well-worn. 

The man caught up, and together the pair headed toward the Quay once more, the first guy putting his phone away as they walked. 

“J, I hope you managed to get a good look at that one guy in the leather jacket.”  JARVIS hadn’t been kicked out of the CCTV network yet, thank god.

_“You mean the one that resembled Agent Coulson?”_

Holy shit.  JARVIS was right.  That was why the guy had seemed so familiar!  “Do a search, see if you can find out anything about him.” 

Tony was willing to bet that man had somehow been related to Agent.  It was too freaky a coincidence.  Maybe Coulson had a secret son out there somewhere? 

No way.  Agent was practically married to SHIELD, and there was no way the secret agent would have cheated on his wife like that.

That guy had to be some sort of relation, though.  Now, that would make sense.  It would also explain Coulson having ‘contacts’ within a British special ops group.  “Can you check to see if Coulson has any family?”

_“It would entail me attempting to get into the SHIELD servers again, and if I try I might alert them to my presence.”_

“Then don’t risk it.  Did you ever get into the UNIT servers?”

_“I did; however, UNIT seems to be out of favour with the United Kingdom, and most of their records have been either sealed or removed to dedicated servers.  I would think it was a direct attempt to keep another agency from getting an upper hand on UNIT.”_

“I thought UNIT were the good guys?”  Truth to tell, Tony really didn’t know all that much about them; but then, he hadn’t wanted to.  After all, anyone who’d accepted a bid from Justin Hammer on their version of the SHIELD Helicarrier didn’t deserve his time.  And they’d gone right back to Hammer Tech when the aforementioned Helicarrier knock-off had been blown to bits by the Daleks.  From what Tony had heard, they were still picking pieces up out of the East River.

 _“They are,”_ JARVIS confirmed.  _“However, for some reason Her Majesty has asked them to remove themselves from the United Kingdom within a certain amount of time.  I cannot find out any more information as to why.”_

“It’s probably not important.  I’m much more interested in that Coulson wannabe.”

_“Perhaps Ms Potts would be of assistance.  She is fairly close to Agent Coulson.”_

“Yeah, right,” Tony snorted.  “I don’t need to give her any more ammunition in her attempts to get me to come back to New York.  Asking about Coulson’s so-called family might give her the idea to sic SHIELD on me, just to get me back onto US soil.  Besides, if that guy _is_ somehow related to Agent, I don’t want him to get tipped off.”

_“It might also make Torchwood aware that you are looking for them.”_

“Oh, I’m sure they already know I am, J.  If anything, me showing up at that Tourist kiosk would have given me away.”

 _“Sir,”_ JARVIS said urgently, _“if you would look across the Plass, toward the water tower, to see the Japanese woman strolling away from the Quay…”_

Tony looked where JARVIS had indicated.  Yes…there she was, walking hand-in-hand with an attractive woman in a dark pantsuit.  They both looked disgustingly happy.  “Why am I looking at her JARVIS?  She’s pretty, but I think she’s taken...”

_“I recognise her.  That is Dr Toshiko Sato.  I am certain you recall her.”_

That had Tony sitting up.  Of course, he remembered Toshiko Sato. 

It had been back in 2002.  A paper had come out, titled _Membrane Wet-Ware for Use in Learning Algorithms for Very Intelligent Systems,_ that had been so close to his own work on JARVIS that for a few seconds he’d actually considered the notion that the author had somehow tapped into his servers and had stolen the idea.  When he’d investigated, he’d discovered that a British Ministry of Defence worker named Toshiko Sato had published it, and had actually gone so far as to conference with her to ask her how she’d come up with the theory.  He’d been so impressed by her that Tony had offered her a job.

Then she’d dropped off the face of the planet.  Tony had never been able to find her again.

It wasn’t coincidence, seeing her there on the Roald Dahl Plass, just the place he’d managed to track Torchwood to.  It would also explain the masterful coding job that had been written into those Dalek files, as well as JARVIS’ inability to get back into that extremely interesting mainframe he’d found at the beginning of the year. 

Cardiff’s oh-so-secret alien-hunting organisation must have snapped her up.

And who could blame them?  Toshiko Sato had been absolutely brilliant back then.  Now, there was no telling just how much better she’d gotten since.  Damnit, what made alien hunting better than getting her own lab with all the bells and whistles and the best benefit package on the planet?

Okay…aliens…

His eyes tracked the pair of women as they walked, but they were soon lost in the crowd that still swirled about the Plass.   “What can you get me on her companion, JARVIS?”

 _“I started working on that the moment I caught sight of them.”_ The AI sounded amused.  _“She was fairly easy to find.  She is Chief Detective Inspector Katherine Swanson, of the Cardiff Police Department.  Her list of accomplishments is quite extensive, and she was promoted just after the events of the terrorist attack on March 14, 2009.  She was the highest ranking officer left after the others above her were killed in the attacks, and she personally took command, leading the Cardiff Police in keeping the peace, and later in relief efforts. There was also a commendation for actions during the five days the children chanted last month, although those files are classified to the utmost highest level.  And, apparently, she and Doctor Sato are married, although it appears that has not been common knowledge until recently.”_

That short report had Tony thinking.  If Toshiko Sato was Torchwood – which seemed extremely likely, even though he had no actual proof – then her being married to the ranking cop in Cardiff was like saying there was some sort of alliance between the police and his secret alien-hunting boy band.  “What about that cop from yesterday, JARVIS?  I know we only had his first name…”

_“And it was enough, as there is only one Andy affiliated with Chief Detective Inspector Swanson:  Detective Sergeant Andrew Davidson.  She was his training officer when he gained the rank of Detective Constable on July 7, 2008.  He also has several commendations in his file, and was also promoted in the aftermath of the terrorist attack at the beginning of the year.  I believe it would be safe to infer that they both have knowledge of Torchwood.”_

JARVIS was right.  It wasn’t a coincidence.  “Yeah, those two are in it up to their badges.”

_“You may also want to be aware that they are currently the only two members of the Cardiff Police, outside of the special tactical forces, that are approved to openly carry guns.”_

Tony didn’t know much about how the cops worked in the UK, but he certainly was aware that they didn’t go around with deadly weapons.  “If they aren’t also in this Torchwood I’d be shocked.”  He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing at how cold it had gotten while he’d been distracted.  “You ever get anything on the Coulson clone?”

_“I have.  His name is Patrick Everett Delaware.  I shall skip the vital statistics – “_

“For which I thank you.”

_“But his past is quite interesting, and mostly redacted.  From what I have been able to discover, Mr Delaware was in the Army, and served two tours before being recruited by the FBI.  He was with them until July 28, 2008, when his records become so redacted there isn’t much there except for black lines.”_

Definitely Torchwood, then.

_“I have also discovered that Mr Delaware’s mother’s name is Margaret Coulson-Delaware…the elder sister of Agent Phillip J Coulson.”_

“Well, you did say he looked like Agent.  And this would explain Coulson’s ‘contact’ comment.”

_“I have other information regarding Mr Delaware – “_

“It’s fine, J.  I know all I need to at the moment.  What about that girl at the Tourist Office?  Did you find out anything about her?”

_“Indeed.  Her name is Deborah Morrison, and she appears on the employee records for the Welsh Tourism Board.  So she, at least, appears to be legitimate.”_

Well, now that was interesting.  Maybe her innocent act had been just that…innocent.  Still, Tony was willing to bet that office was some sort of front for Torchwood, even if there was an official Welsh government employee in charge of it.

Of course, being an official tourist office helper would be the perfect cover…

“And what about that guy who was with Agent’s nephew?”  Tony was willing to bet he was Torchwood as well.

There was a pause, and it sounded vaguely sheepish to Tony.  _“I am not certain the information I have on him is up to date, but what I did find was for a Mickey Smith, who was pronounced deceased after the terrorist attack on Canary Wharf in 2006.”_

“No, I don’t think you’re wrong.”  If all that had been Torchwood, maybe this Smith guy had been a survivor that went undocumented?  Or covered up?

He’d been given a lot to chew on.  As Tony sat there, his mind going through everything he’d managed to learn in just a short time, his phone rang.

Grimacing, he checked the caller ID.  Damn, it was Pepper, and if he didn’t answer it would only be worse later. 

“Hello, love of my life,” he greeted, going for the feelings right away, knowing it wouldn’t work but needing to make the attempt.  “How’s it going? _”_

 _“It would be going a lot smoother if you were here to take that long-overdue meeting with the Mayor,”_ she answered, sounding more exasperated than fond over the Bluetooth. 

“Schedule one for next week,” he answered breezily. 

_“I’d do that if I actually expected you to make it.”_

“I’m upset that you have so little faith in me.”

_“I just know you extremely well, Tony.”_

She was right.  Pepper knew Tony sometimes better than he knew himself, and it was still amazing to him that she felt the way she did about it.  One of these days he just knew he was going to mess it up, but until then he was going to revel in her regard. 

_“So, have you had any luck with your secret organisation search?”_

Pepper’s opinion had been for Tony to leave it alone, and not just because she needed him there in New York.  Secret meant secret, and just because Tony had the curiosity of a cat didn’t mean he needed to go and hunt down people who didn’t want to be hunted down. 

“Actually, I have.”  He tried not to sound too smug, but it was an effort.  “Did you know that Coulson had a nephew?”

There was a pause. _“I did,”_ came the reply. _“Phil is very proud of Patrick.  Of course, Phil kept it close to his vest about just who Patrick worked for…are you saying he’s involved in this somehow?”_

“Well,” he drawled, leaning back on the bench he’d managed to stake out all to himself, even though Pepper couldn’t see him at the moment, “unless him being in Cardiff is a complete and utter coincidence.”

That earned him a laugh. _“Why doesn’t that surprise me?  Looks like I’m going to have to say something to Phil the next time we get together for drinks.”_

Honestly, if he had to admit it to himself, Tony was just a little jealous of the friendship that had sprung up between Agent and Pepper.  Oh, he knew Pepper was completely loyal to him, but there was that small voice in Tony’s head – the one that wasn’t blocked out by ideas and maths and his newest obsession – that would always wonder why Pepper was with him at all.  She could do so much better, and Agent was a good man…not that he was about to even acknowledge that out loud. 

“So,” he said instead, “I’m onto something, and I’ll be back in New York as soon as I get some answers.”

_“And I know you too well.  There’s no way I can talk you out of it, now that you finally have a trail to follow.”_

“Hey, if I was the kind of person who gave up, I’d still be in that cave in Afghanistan.”

Pepper sighed. _“You’re right.  Be careful, alright?  These people live in the shadows, and chances are they won’t take it well if you go and expose them.”_

“I don’t intend on exposing them.  I just want to know more about them, that’s all.  Ask JARVIS to explain everything we’ve found out so far.  I’m close, Pep…I can practically smell the cover-up, I’m that close.”

_“Then I’ll go ahead and schedule that meeting.  But you better not even attempt to reschedule it, Tony Stark, or I’ll come and track you down myself.”_

Tony flinched.  Yeah, she would, too. 

“I promise I’ll be back for whatever meeting you set up for me.”

“Excuse me,” a polite voice interrupted his phone call, “but are you Tony Stark?”

Tony looked up, irritated.  A man stood there, stocky yet not overweight, with a friendly face framed with dark hair.  Smiling dark eyes were looking at him intensely.  He was dressed in jeans, with a brown linen coat over some sort of pullover.  One hand was stuffed in his coat pocket; another was holding a camera phone. 

“Gotta go, I have an adoring fan.”  Without waiting to hear Pepper saying goodbye, Tony had the line disconnected and he was giving the man one of his best, public smiles.  “That’s me,” he confirmed.  “I suppose you want a selfie with me?”

“That would be great,” the man enthused.  He was obviously Welsh, which made Tony automatically want to agree to it.  It was that damned accent, and he made a mental note to never hire anyone with it because he appeared to be a sucker for the sound.  It must have been the vowels…  “My mates won’t believe that I actually saw you if I don’t get a photo.”

Tony stood, getting in close to the Welshman as he positioned the phone to get the best picture.  The guy was just a little taller than Tony was, so it wasn’t that hard to get them both in shot, so it didn’t take long for the fan to snap the photo he wanted.

The man stepped away, staring at the image on his phone.  “Thanks a million!  Now I can tell all my friends I actually met the bloody Iron Man.”

It wasn’t until the man had gone that Tony realised that his impromptu photo-taking session had drawn the attention of others.  While he didn’t mind helping out a few fans, it meant that he couldn’t remain hidden any longer. 

By the time he’d finished doing the glad-handing he’d gotten used to ever since he’d come out as Iron Man, it was getting onto dinner time and he was hungry.

Tomorrow, he’d have to find another place to sit and watch.

Damnit.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

_**2 November 2009** _

__

Tony should have gone back to the hotel, but instead he ended up in a pub that wasn’t that far from the Plass.

He’d been to a lot of bars in the past, and this one had an almost sports’ bar-like atmosphere without all the actual sports.  One of the things Tony had learned in his time in Cardiff was that he’d have to go up to the bar to order what he wanted, and he did so, ordering food from a blackboard over the shelves where the various bottles of alcohol were stored.  He also got himself what the locals called a pint, and it was impressive.

Tony quite liked the beer in the UK.  He’d have to see about getting some for his wet bar back at the mansion.

He found a table near the back of the pub after the bartender had brought him out his food.  The smell of fish and chips made his stomach grumble, and Tony tucked in with relish.  He thought the meals he’d been served ever since he’d gotten there had been a tad bland, but then years of drinking had probably wrecked his taste buds anyway, and there was plenty of sauce and vinegar if he was so inclined.

Still, it filled the empty spot, and he was just finishing up when a voice said, “Hey there, handsome.  Haven’t seen you around these parts.”

The voice was American, and it startled Tony just enough that he almost spilled his beer.  The man who’d approached him was hot, in the genius’ not-to-inconsiderable opinion.  Hot as in movie star hot, with a jaw and cheekbones that anyone would’ve paid good money to obtain, bright blue eyes, and hair that was artfully spiked except for a single lock that fell onto his forehead.  He was tall, and built, and was wearing a coat that had epaulets on it that made Tony assume that he’d been in the military at some point, even though he’d never seen anyone in the States wear anything like it before.  A pale blue shirt, dark blue waistcoat, and tan trousers completed the ensemble.

Shit, why’d he have to be taken?  It was so unfair.

 “You don’t sound like you come from around here, either,” Tony snarked back, smirking up at the man.

The man laughed.  “Ah, yes…the Welsh accent.  Part of the reason I live here, you know.  That, and the beer.”  He raised the mug he was gripping; it was nearly full. Tony noticed, when the sleeve of his coat rode up a little, that there was a wide leather band buckled about his wrist. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.  It’s a bit crowded in here, and you seem to have one of the few seats left open.”

How the guy made a request for a seat sound like innuendo, Tony had no idea.

“Sure,” he agreed, almost warily.  This person was a complete stranger, and Tony had had a rather healthy distrust of most strangers since his time in Afghanistan.  Hell, he had a rather healthy distrust for most of the people he actually knew, really.  After all, it had been Obie who’d betrayed him in the first place, and he would have sworn he could have trusted his father’s oldest friend with his life.

The man sat and offered a hand.  “Jack,” he introduced himself.

“Tony.”  The genius accepted the handshake.

“Yeah, I kinda guessed.  The press doesn’t exactly shun you, you know.”

“I’m just extremely photogenic.”

“I think you look a lot better in person.”  Jack winked at him.

Well, this was getting rather salacious really fast. 

Double damn.  If Tony had been willing to screw the bartender at his hotel, and the shopkeeper who’d kicked him off his bench earlier today, then he would have become this man’s sex slave.  It didn’t help that the aftershave Jack was wearing smelled fucking amazing.

“I should warn you,” Tony said, almost reluctantly, because holy hell, Jack’s sex appeal would power Manhattan for a month, “I’m very much taken.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Jack sighed.  “Still, it doesn’t keep me from buying you a drink to make up for any sort of uncomfortableness I might have caused.”

Tony waved the offer off.  “No need, because if I was single I’d have done anything you wanted me to.”

“See, now that’s an even bigger shame, because I would have really enjoyed ordering you around.”

And no, Tony did not just get hard.  Not at all.

Thank god he was sitting down.

“So,” he managed to spit out, “you live here?”

Jack nodded.  “I have for a long time now.  I’m a citizen and everything.”  He sounded very proud of that fact. 

Tony decided to take a chance.  “So…have you heard about Torchwood?”

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, and one corner of his mouth quirked upward in a sly smile. “I may have.  It’s all rumour, though.  Supposedly, anything weird happens in Cardiff, Torchwood is there.  Not that I’ve ever seen it myself, of course.”

“Of course not.”  Tony didn’t let the frustration get him down, and he had to ask, “And this isn’t some sort of bizarre joke you all play on the tourists?”

“Why on earth would we do that?” Jack exclaimed.  “It’s not like complete strangers come to Cardiff expecting anything hinky to happen.”

“But Cardiff does have a reputation.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, sprawled comfortably.  “Well, yeah.  In certain circles.  Weirdness does seem to like hanging out around here.”  He took a small sip from his pint.  “Just what’s your interest in Torchwood, anyway?  Going to sic Iron Man on them?”

His voice was teasing, and Tony wanted to take offence but the man just seemed so completely open and genuine about the question, and his flirty manner didn’t hurt one bit.  “Nope, just satisfying my own curiosity.”

“And your curiosity is as sexy as the rest of you.” Jack sipped at his beer once more, then stood.  “I should probably head out, since the reason I sat down is gone, now.  As I said, it’s a shame.  All the good-looking ones seem to be taken.  It was nice to meet you, Tony.  Enjoy your stay in our fair city.”

Tony was suddenly very sorry that Jack was leaving, and not because he enjoyed the sexual frustration he was currently experiencing.  It was nice to have someone flirt with him like that; it had been a long time since it had occurred and there hadn’t been any sort of ulterior motive behind it.  Not that Jack might not have one; but there was something about the guy that just screamed ‘sincerity’.  He’d come over because he’d wanted to, and not because he’d wanted something. 

It was quite refreshing.

“Thanks, Jack,” he answered.  “I think I might.”


	6. Chapter 6

 

_**3 November 2009** _

__

Saturday morning dawned, but Tony didn’t want to dawn with it.

He’d spent a couple of hours at the pub, getting determinedly sloshed.  After his encounter with the handsome Jack, the genius had felt a bit down.  It wasn’t because he’d wanted to actually sleep with Jack – and he had, but he’d never betray Pepper like that – but the flirting had made him feel better about himself.  It had been a nice distraction from the wild goose chase that looking for Torchwood had become, and he’d been glad of the company, even though it had only been for a couple of minutes, and he’d wished that Jack had stayed just to talk.

Tony had finally left the pub at closing time, stumbling back to the St David’s and back up to his room, where he’d collapsed onto the bed without even bothering to get undressed.  He’d removed his shoes, because his mother had taught him not to be a savage. But beyond that, he hadn’t cared.

It was his phone ringing that had gotten him to finally regain consciousness, albeit extremely reluctantly.

Tony almost dropped it twice before he could answer, not bothering to check the caller ID.  “’lo?” he mumbled into the receiver as his head flopped back onto the pillow.  He just wanted nothing more than to burrow back under the blankets and forget the world existed.

 _“I understand you’re looking for Torchwood,”_ a male voice said. 

It took Tony about three seconds to process what the voice had just said, and then he was sitting straight up in the bed, his hangover forgotten.  “Who is this?” he demanded.  “How did you get my number?”  His phone was completely unlisted, and only a handful of people had it. 

 _“Does that really matter?”_ the anonymous caller answered.  The accent was British, not Welsh, and Tony had no freaking clue who it was.  He hoped that JARVIS was monitoring, and would be able to trace the call.  _“I have information on Torchwood.  Do you want it or not?”_

“Hell, yeah.” 

 _“Then let’s meet.  I’ll be at Bute Park at noon, near the old Friary site.  I’ll be wearing the Iron Man t-shirt.”_ The phone disconnected.

“Well, at least he has good taste in casual wear.”  Tony used the app that would put him into direct contact with JARVIS.  “J, please tell me you got that.”

 _“I did,”_ the AI answered gravely, _“however, I was unable to trace the call back to its source.”_

JARVIS sounded downright upset about it, and Tony was quick to reassure him.  “I really didn’t expect you to be able to.  The call didn’t last nearly long enough, and anyone worth their salt would’ve used some sort of burner phone.”

_“May I advise you not to make this meeting, Sir?”_

“You may, but that’s not going to stop me.  I’m far too big a target for anyone to make disappear.”  It was either going to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done – and that included sleeping with a lot of the people he had over the years – or he was finally going to get some answers.

_“That is what you thought before Afghanistan, Sir.”_

“You might have a point, but I’m Iron Man now.  If anything, I’m now a lot more trouble than I’m worth.”

_“At least let me keep Agent Coulson on speed dial.  He might not be able to get to you, but his nephew is in the area.  And if this isn’t Torchwood, then perhaps they could mount a rescue.”_

“That would certainly be an interesting way to get to meet them.”  It would be the worst kind of irony if Tony got kidnapped for searching for Torchwood, and then need to get saved by them. 

 _“I shall monitor as best I can,”_ JARVIS went on, _“but I should make you aware that, according to what I have now been able to discover, CCTV coverage in the area of the meeting is spotty at best.”_

“I’m sure that’s why he chose it, J.”

 _“Indeed, Sir.”_ JARVIS didn’t sound very happy, but there was no way Tony was going to miss the chance to find out just what this mysterious Torchwood was.

He knew he was taking a risk.  However, sometimes the risk was worth the gain.  And he completely trusted JARVIS to watch his back.

That didn’t stop him from wishing he hadn’t left his armour on the plane, though.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

_**3 November 2009** _

It was a good thing JARVIS looked up Bute Park, because Tony wouldn’t have found the meeting place on his own.

The Friary site was down toward one end of the park, an open area where, according to JARVIS, a Blackfriars Friary had once stood.  The AI gave him a brief history, but Tony pretty much tuned it out and only got the gist that the place was old.  He really didn’t think anything else mattered all that much.

It was a nice day, a little warmer than the day before, which was a change.  The sun was also out, forcing Tony to wear his sunglasses against the glare and as a protection for his aching head.  The hangover was mostly gone, but there was still enough left to make even the weak sunlight feel as if someone was stabbing needles into his eyeballs.

Tony had thought he’d have been meeting his contact at an actual building, but the only thing that was left of the Friary was the foundation, and the short stone border around the area, with grass growing around the top.  The place was out in the open, with only a single, gnarled tree that would have partially shaded the place in the summer.  Being November, the leaves were gone from the tree, and someone must have meticulously raked all the fallen leaves away because there wasn’t a single sign of one anywhere.

His contact was near the tree.

The man had dark hair and thin, slightly pale, features.  Along with the Iron Man t-shirt was a black leather coat and black jeans.  He was leaning against the bole of the tree, his arms crossed over his chest, and while he might have seemed relaxed to the few people milling about in the area Tony could tell he was really watching everything around him.

He caught sight of Tony at the exact some moment Tony caught sight of him.

Tony ambled over, wanting to seem nonchalant but at the same time he was intent on getting the information the man had offered.  Sure, he could be asking for trouble, but something was telling him that this just might be legit.  Maybe it had been the rudeness of the original call, or the fact that the guy had apparently hacked through the security Tony had on his phone in order to get the number…well, it could have been anything.  Tony thought he was a decent judge of character, except when it came to certain people, and his instincts were telling him to hear the man out.

“You look like your pictures,” the man snarked as Tony got close enough.  He was just insulting enough that the genius actually felt as if he was standing on solid ground.

“Yeah, when you look like me, pictures just happen.”

That earned Tony a rude snort.  “You’re an arse, too.  That’s good to know.”

“You’re the one who called me,” Tony pointed out.  “And I’m still trying to figure out how you managed that, and how you even knew I was looking for Torchwood.”

“I have my ways,” the man replied.  “And your AI isn’t half as sneaky as it likes to think.”

JARVIS made his own snort in Tony’s ear, but the inventor ignored it.  He didn’t want to give this asshole any clue that he was being monitored, even as he agreed with JARVIS’ disdain. 

“You’ve been visiting some websites you shouldn’t be visiting.”

“Then they shouldn’t be on the internet.”

Okay, Tony thought he might really _like_ this bozo.

The man smirked.  “Point.”  He pushed himself away from the tree, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat.  “A lot of shit on those sites is bullshit, pure and simple.  Hell, most of ‘em are up because Torchwood put them there, as sort of a red herring.  So you can’t believe a thing they say.”

Oh, of course.  It made sense that some of the stuff that JARVIS had dug up had been misinformation on Torchwood’s part.  Most likely the more insane conspiracy sites were the bogus ones.

“So, what is the truth?”

The man stared at Tony shrewdly.  “And just why do you want to find them, anyway?”

“That’s my business.” 

His contact shrugged.  “No skin off my nose, mate.”

“Do you have something to tell me, or not?”  Tony was getting a little impatient.  He felt exposed out in the open as he was, when anyone visiting the park could decide they wanted to come up and talk to him.  Normally, Tony didn’t mind the groupies, but not while he was conducting private business.

“Alright.”  The guy stepped up a little too close, and it was all Tony could do not to move away.  “Here’s what I know.  Torchwood is dangerous.  If they think you’re gonna get all up in their business they’ll either make you forget you’ve ever heard of them…or worse.  And don’t think you being famous and having fancy armour is going to keep them from doing anything.  Torchwood likes their secrecy, and they do everything they can to keep it.”

That…made sense, really.  An organisation as secret as Torchwood – unless, of course, you lived in Cardiff – would do anything to keep word from getting out about them. 

Tony knew then he should just walk away.  That he should stuff his curiosity back into its box and leave well enough alone.  It should have been enough that Coulson trusted them; that Coulson’s own nephew assumedly worked for them. 

And it wasn’t as if they were the bad guys.  That was patently not the case, if they were saving the world on a regular basis.  Although Tony couldn’t prove it, he was convinced it had been Torchwood that had gotten the Earth back to its usual place in the universe, and he was beginning to think they’d also stopped the children from chanting last month, which would mean that had been aliens as well. 

But he couldn’t.

He had questions. 

“I just want to talk to them,” Tony insisted.  “At the beginning of the year, they saved this planet, and I want to be a part of that.  I’m not a team player by any stretch of the imagination, but I can help with tech or even monetary support.”

His contact was watching him carefully.  “You really think you can help?” he asked skeptically.

Tony shrugged.  “Don’t know until I ask.” He took a deep breath, knowing he had to sell this if he was going to get access, because he was beginning to suspect that the man standing next to him was actually Torchwood, and not some nutcase with his own conspiracy website. 

“And what makes you think we need your help?”

This was another voice, one that Tony thought sounded familiar.  He spun in the direction of the speaker, and barely contained the snort of disbelief when he recognised the Welshman who’d asked him to move on from his surveillance spot yesterday…the one he’d thought was one of the Quay’s businessmen.  He was wearing another suit, this one just as nice as before, only in a rich black with a very subtle red pinstripe, paired with a red shirt and black tie.  He wasn’t wearing a coat, and why wasn’t the man freezing his lovely ass off?

Jack was standing next to him, in his big blue-grey coat, hands in his pockets, and today Tony could see the gun that was holstered on his belt.  The bright white of a t-shirt peeked out from the open collar of his dark blue shirt, with darker brown trousers and tough work boots.

Tony had to laugh.

He’d been had.

He really should have seen it coming.

“Torchwood, I presume?” Tony said mockingly past his laughter.

Jack stepped forward.  “Captain Jack Harkness, Director of the Torchwood Institute.  This is my Second-in-Command, Ianto Jones.” He indicated the well-dressed Welshman.  “And the man beside you is Owen Harper, our Head Medic.”

“Doctor Owen Harper,” the man groused. “I don’t know why you keep forgetting it.”

Jack smirked.  “I don’t forget…I just like irritating you.”

“Please excuse our caution,” Ianto Jones said politely, “but the last time someone spied on us, they tried to lure us out in an attempt to take us out of the picture of a very serious alien incursion.”

“Because they were fucking idiots,” Owen commented.

“No argument there,” the Welshman agreed.  He turned back to Tony.  “We had to make certain you weren’t going to come after us for some reason known only to yourself.  The last thing we’d needed was Iron Man attacking our team.”

Tony supposed that made some sense, not that he was about to go all Iron Man on a group who’d obviously saved the planet at least once.  Still, he had to admit – at least to himself – that his actions had been just a little bit stalkery.

 “Alright,” he conceded, “but I needed to know…no, I wanted to know…who was out there that was so secret that I couldn’t really dig anything up on it.  Besides, you locked JARVIS out of your system.  That alone was enough to get me interested.”  He really wanted to know for certain that it had been Toshiko Sato’s work on their computer security, because then he’d feel better about that.

Jack – he was never going to be Captain Harkness, no matter what the man claimed – laughed.  “Agent Coulson did make several rather pointed comments on your curiosity and your tenacity.”

Of course they would have tattled on him to Agent. 

Something must have shown on his face, because Jones spoke up, “We contacted Agent Coulson to ask his opinion on approaching you directly.  He assured us that you could be trusted, but that you wouldn’t go away no matter what information we fed you.”

Tony was somewhat surprised that he’d gotten such a recommendation from Coulson.  He’d gotten the impression that Agent tolerated him at best, but the genius had to admit at least Coulson asked for things instead of just coming in and demanding shit, like his boss did.  He’d often wondered whose idea it had been to pass him the Dalek information, and now he was pretty certain it had been Coulson.  Although, he doubted Agent would have done it if he’d realised Tony would have gone in search of his mysterious ‘contacts’.

“So,” Jack said, rocking back on his heels and grinning like a crazy person, “you wanna see our ultra-secret, science fiction superbase?”

Tony stabbed a finger in Jack’s direction.  “Was it just me, or did that sound like a come-on?”

Jones sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “It wasn’t just you.”

“Nah, that’s Harkness,” Harper said sarcastically.  “I don’t know how Ianto puts up with him some days.”

“It’s because I’m generally awesome and great in the sack,” Jack boasted.

“Not something I wanted to ever know, thanks.”

Tony got the feeling this was normal, but he couldn’t help but put things together from what Harper had implied.  “Wait…” he gave Jack the side-eye, “you’re together with him,” he gestured toward Jones, “and you were flirting with _me_?”

“It’s what he does,” Jones conceded.  “If he didn’t flirt I’d have to assume he’s been taken over by an alien presence or replaced by some sort of shapeshifter.”

Shapeshifters were a thing?  Tony wondered how that worked…

Jack bumped his shoulder into Jones’, giving the Welshman a fond smile.  “I’ll always flirt, but I come home with you.”

“Okay, so what would have happened if I’d taken you up on your not-so-veiled offer?” Tony wanted to know.

“Well, Agent Coulson said you were in a committed relationship with Ms Potts,” Jack answered, “so if you had taken me up on anything, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.  In fact, you would have been on your way back to New York without a single memory of your time in Cardiff.” 

His eyes were sharp, and suddenly Tony could see past the handsome, flirty exterior to the Director of Torchwood.  He had absolutely no doubt that Jack meant every single word, and was very glad indeed that he’d passed _that_ particular test.

And that’s what it had been…a test.  He wondered just how many he’d had and not realised it.

“We’re going to need you to sign some paperwork as well, especially the Official Secrets Act,” Jones added.  “If you can’t do that, then we can’t show you what you want to see.”

Tony had absolutely no problem with that, and said so.

“Then, come on,” Jack invited.  He motioned Tony forward.  “Let’s go.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! Thanks everyone for reading. I was going to post this on my usual Saturday, but when I got up my internet was down, and then I had to work. But, here it is. 
> 
> Next up, we're back to the Future-Verse with the story that had the working title of The Monster. See you then. :)

 

_**3 November 2009** _

__

Tony had been very impressed with Torchwood’s official vehicle, although he could think of a couple of different ways to streamline the computer interface. 

He also had to make a comment about ‘Torchwood’ being emblazoned across the fender panels.   “No wonder you’re the worst kept secret in Cardiff!”

Jack had simply smirked.  “At least they have warning we’re coming and can get out of our way.”

“I have to ask,” Jones said as Jack navigated their way down Cardiff’s streets. And Tony thought that flying in the Iron Man armour was insane; Jack drove like he was flying some sort of jet.  “Just what finally put you on the trail?  We know you’ve been in town for a week and this was the closest you’d gotten.”

Of course they’d known.  He wasn’t surprised.

Tony explained about the bartender at the St David’s, and that had Harkness laughing as he took a corner at speed.  “Gotta love the citizens of Cardiff!” he exclaimed.

Neither Harper nor Jones looked all that bothered by Jack’s suicidal driving, even though Tony, from the rear seat of the high-tech SUV, was getting just a little bit carsick even buckled in. 

It was no surprise that they ended up in the parking garage of the Millennium Centre.  Jack took them on a hell of a ride down to the lowermost level, parking the large vehicle next to a lovingly restored ‘68 Mustang in a green so dark it was almost black.  “Ooo, baby,” Tony crooned as he approached the car, “you are a beauty.  Let me take you home and love you…”

“You might have to fight the owner for her,” Jones laughed.  “And my money would be on her.”

“You’re underestimating me when there’s a gorgeous car at stake.”  With a final caress across that magnificent paint job, Tony followed the three men through a secured door in the wall.

The corridor beyond looked like it had been there for years.  Well, if what JARVIS had discovered, Torchwood had been around for a really long time.  He wondered exactly how long, and figured he’d get to ask once he’d signed their paperwork. As a rule, Tony hated paperwork, but he wasn’t going to let that stand in his way of finally getting his answers.

The corridor branched several times along the way, but they kept going straight, finally coming to a short set of steps that went up into a large space that had Tony’s jaw dropping in surprise.

The place had a bit of a subway vibe to it, reminding Tony of a repurposed underground station.  White tiles were along the walls, plain concrete under his feet.  Someone had inlaid ‘Torchwood’ in the tiles, as if there was any sort of doubt as to where he was.  The main area was set up with several desks, many of them with equipment that Tony was fairly impressed with.  There wasn’t anything like the holographic tech that he was fond of, but then that sort of thing wasn’t for anyone, although he’d make the offer.  His fingers itched to get his hands on it, especially the large piece that took up quite a bit of space and looked important; there were bits on it he didn’t recognise at all, and a fleeting thought was that maybe it was part alien technology?

Right smack dab in the middle of the room was what had to have been the base of the water tower that was up on the Plass. 

An office was on one side of the room, near what looked like a cage with a large, round door behind it.  As he watched, the door rolled aside, the cage door opened, while a really loud alarm went off; and no, Tony didn’t totally jump at the noise.  Entering the area was that Deborah girl, and she grinned when she caught sight of Tony, who most certainly wasn’t gaping like a fish.

There was an upper metal gantry.  A brilliant red dragon was painted along the wall at that level, symbol of Welsh pride if ever there was one.  There was quite a crowd up there, twelve in total, all staring down at the four – now five – of them on the main floor. 

“Mister Stark,” Jack said formally, “welcome to Torchwood.”

Okay, when Tony’d come to Cardiff looking for some sort of special ops team that went hunting aliens, this wasn’t exactly what he’d expected.  He’d thought they’d be some sort of Army unit, or something equally official, but instead each and every one of them looked like they were civilians.  Well, except for the two cops standing with the rest; and now that he was seeing the team complete, he could pick out each and every one of them.  They’d all been visible to him at one time or another, and Tony hadn’t even known.

“Let me introduce you.”  Jack began pointing to each one, going around the gantry area clockwise.  “Mickey Smith; field agent, tech specialist, mechanic, and former Resistance fighter on an alternate Earth.”

It was the black man Tony had seen with Coulson’s nephew; the one JARVIS had claimed had been killed at Canary Wharf.  Mickey Smith gave him a three-fingered salute, nodding in greeting. 

Wait…what was that about an alternate Earth?

Before he could question that piece of information, Jack was continuing.  “Eion Gwynne; Liaison with the Lord Mayor’s Office and field agent-in-training.”

Eion was a handsome man, with longish hair and artfully scruffy beard.  He actually winked rather saucily, and Tony couldn’t help but return it.  Was all of Torchwood good-looking?  It wasn’t fair, really.

“Patrick Delaware; Weapons Officer and Third-in-Command.  He’s also Phil Coulson’s nephew, and will kick your ass before you even know he’s moved.”

“Yeah, I saw him.  JARVIS was able to pull his records…well, the parts that weren’t redacted.” Up close, he noticed more of the family resemblance, and Tony could see a little bit of that bland mask that Agent was so good at.  Must have been genetic, then.  That really didn’t surprise him one bit.  That, and the inherent dangerousness that Agent seemed to exude when he wanted to.  Definitely genetic.

Patrick laughed.  “There’s more black ink on my records than actual words, which puts me ahead in the family security clearance race.”

Oh, and that was a thing, too.  Tony was not at all surprised.

“Anna Chang,” Jack indicated a slight Chinese woman, with black hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail.  She was standing next to Delaware, and the top of her head barely reached his shoulder.  “Junior Archivist and one of the bravest women I have ever had the chance to recruit.”

Anna blushed.  “I only did what was right,” she denied, her accent a little thick. 

“Anna was on the front lines of the Dalek invasion,” Jones explained.  “She’s former UNIT who didn’t agree with their policies in regards to the security of the planet.  She’s only been with us a couple of weeks, but already she’s going to be an asset up at our main Archive at Torchwood House.”

Well, so much for Torchwood House being a tourist attraction.  Looked like he’d been wrong when he’d assumed that.

“Our favourite coppers; Detective Chief Inspector Kathy Swanson-Sato, and Detective Sergeant Andy Davidson.”

“How’d the date go?” Tony asked Davidson, smirking.

The cop looked abashed.  “Wasn’t a date, really.  I just got sent up there to get you to leave.”

Although, if Tony was right, Davidson had wished it really was a date.

“Of course, you know Dr Toshiko Sato-Swanson; our resident genius and tech guru.  I believe you tried to hire her at one point.”  Jack looked very smug.

“And I’m an extremely sore loser and will keep trying to hire her for SI until I wear her down.”

Doctor Sato – Sato-Swanson, now – laughed.  “You can try, but it’s not going to happen, Mr Stark.”

“Next to her is Rhys Williams; Logistics,” Jack continued.

“Cheers,” the man who’d wanted the selfie greeted.  “And thanks for the photo.”

“Yeah,” Ianto chuckled, “Rhys did that on his own.”

“Who wouldn’t want a selfie with Iron Man?” the Welshman asked.

That got him a round of laughter from everyone in the room, including Tony, because yeah…who wouldn’t?

“It also helped that it drew all sorts of attention to you,” Williams added.  “Hoped to distract you.  Worked, too.”

Tony admitted that yes, it had worked.

“Ceridwen Price,” Jack went on, “our Liaison with the Cardiff Coven and part-timer with the team.”

Tony’s eyes widened.  “Wait…are you saying she’s a witch or something?”

“Witch is a good enough term,” Ceridwen laughed.  She was a buxom blonde with…green eyes, maybe?  It was hard to tell from the distance.  “Some of what Torchwood does also falls into the magical realms, and they call on me when that occurs.”

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Tony denied hotly. 

“That’s what I used to think,” Jack said.  “But I’ve come to understand there are things out there I don’t know, and I’ve seen enough magic to know it exists.”

No, they were having him on.  Magic simply didn’t fit into the worldview that Tony had, and it had never been quantified.  He hadn’t ever seen it either, except for card tricks and David Copperfield making the Statue of Liberty disappear, which was just mirrors and misdirection.  No way was magic real.

Still, Jack moved on, as if introducing a witch wasn’t a big deal.  “Next is Dr Martha Jones-Milligan; Exo-Biologist, Saviour of the Earth, and Charter Member of the End of the World Club.  Our Nightingale.”

Doctor Jones-Milligan rolled her eyes.  She was an attractive black woman, and Tony knew immediately that this was a woman who could kick his ass, but for some reason he thought she never really would, no matter the provocation. “Honestly, Jack.  The first would have been fine.  Besides, I’m not the only one who could be called that; I had my Dragon with me.”

She glanced down at Jones, her dark eyes fond. Ianto met that expression with one of his own, a small, private smile on his lips as he bowed to her slightly.

There was a story there, and Tony was itching to find out what it was.  Had they really seen the end of the world, or was Jack just blowing smoke?

No. From the looks on several faces, this wasn’t a joke despite the cutesy nicknames Jones and Dr Jones had obviously gone by.  Some sort of code names, maybe?  Damnit, he wanted to know!

And yet, he got the feeling they’d never tell him.  Well, he’d just have to do a bit of research on his own, unless he could get them to talk about it after he’d signed their doo-dad form. 

“Next to her is Dr Tom Milligan,” Jack kept up with the introductions.  “He’s our Trauma Specialist and Martha’s husband, plus an all-around good guy to have at your back in a crisis.”

The tall, gangly man next to Dr Jones-Milligan smiled down at Jack.  “Thanks for that.”

“And, last but not least, the lovely Letitia Jones; Martha’s sister and our Admin.”

Jack wasn’t wrong, Letitia was indeed lovely.  If Tony wasn’t mistaken, she was a little younger than Martha, but there was something in her eyes…a darkness that spoke of something terrible having happened in the past.  

Tony knew that look intimately; he saw it every time he looked in the mirror.

 “Mister Stark,” Letitia greeted him with a teasing smile.  “My friends call me Tish.”

“My friends call me Tony,” he answered gallantly, “and ‘Tish’ is too short a name for such a gorgeous lady.  You know, I have a position open as my personal assistant…”  He was kidding, of course; if he came back with a new PA, Pepper would have his hide.  It wasn’t that Pepper did a bad job, it was just that she’d do so much more in a place of authority in Stark Industries.

Tish laughed.  “I’ve managed to get hired by two of the planet’s biggest megalomaniacs who tried to destroy the world; I wouldn’t want you to turn into a third.”  Then she laughed again.  “And no, I don’t mean Jack and Ianto.”

That made him extremely curious, and he made a mental note to check into Ms Jones’ employment history.  “As long as one of those men wasn’t Justin Hammer, we’re golden.”

“Hammer is a piker compared to Lazarus and Saxon.”

Tony thought he’d heard the name Lazarus before, but couldn’t place it; he’d check with JARVIS, as he’d turned off his Bluetooth in deference to what he’d been about to be shown. 

But Saxon…  “Damn, you worked for that nutjob who killed the President?” Sure, Tony hadn’t voted for Winters, and to be honest he much preferred the current POTUS, but still…

“Saxon was a nutjob, but he was also a power-crazed alien out to conquer the universe,” Jack confirmed.  Something crossed his face, like a shadow of pain, and Tony figured he really didn’t need to know all that much.

“Well, to be fair,” Tony replied, “I’m not so sure Hammer isn’t an alien out to conquer the world…he’s just shit at it.”

There was a round of laughter at that, and as if there’d been some sort of signal the entire team began moving down from the overhead gantry.  Instead of watching them do that, Tony turned back to Jack and Jones.  Jones was smiling, and he said, “I’ll get the coffee, shall I?  Deborah, care to give me a hand with the mugs?”

“Of course,” the young girl answered.  She favoured Tony with an impish grin, then joined Jones as he left the main area, heading up a set of steps toward what didn’t look at all like the kind of place that had a coffee maker in it.  In fact, the equipment up there looked a combination of steampunk aesthetic and 50’s sci-fi chic.

Still, he figured they knew what they were doing, so he looked back at Jack.  “So, just what does Torchwood do?  JARVIS couldn’t find much that was wasn’t rampant speculation or downright paranoia.”

“Torchwood,” Jack explained, “was created by Queen Victoria in order to investigate alien threats and other sorts of things against the British Empire.”

“You get a lot of that here in Cardiff?”

Jack looked smug.  “Cardiff sits on a Rift in space/time, which is prone to bringing things and people here from other times and planets and dumping them on the unsuspecting populace. We were set up here to monitor that Rift, and to clean up after it.  If it’s tech, we study it and make sure it’s not dangerous.  If it’s living, we help the ones who are peaceful, and take care of the beings who decide to kill and main their way through the city.”

A Rift in space/time?  Oh, that was something Tony hadn’t even considered existing.  The scientist in him was itching to study the phenomena, and the ten-year-old in him wanted to see an alien.  “Are any of you the friendly sort of alien?” he asked before he even considered that that might be a rather rude question.

Then he spun on Mickey, who was now standing at one of the desks.  Tony stabbed a finger at him.  “You came through it, didn’t you?  From that alternate universe thingy.”  He had to wonder just how many of the current theories on other dimensions had been proved by Torchwood and they hadn’t released the information to the scientific community.  Sure, he could see the reason behind it, but it still bothered him that all that knowledge was being sat on and not shared.

“Nah,” Mickey denied.  “I got here another way.”  He didn’t explain, and Tony could tell that demanding the entire story wouldn’t be welcome.  A lot of the time he recognised he was a nosy bastard and Pepper despaired of ever getting him to shut up, but there were moments when he was very much aware that pushing wasn’t going to get him answers; it would more likely get him punched in the face, and Tony wasn’t about to risk damaging himself just because he had no impulse control.  And really, Mickey struck him as one of those sorts who’d punch first and apologise later.

“I came through the Rift,” Deborah spoke up.  The young woman was coming down from where she and Jones had been working, carrying a tray full of mugs.  There was a minor stampede as various team members swarmed her, everyone grabbing one of the mugs until only one was left.  She brought that one to Tony, holding up the tray for him, and he reached over and gratefully picked it up. 

She smiled at him.  “I came through the Rift,” she repeated, “but not from an alien world…I’m from 1953.  Torchwood helped me, and I came to work for them when I was offered the opening at the Tourist Information Centre.”

“Am I supposed to know that?” Tony asked.  He took a sip of coffee…and nearly swooned at how good it was, and just the way he preferred it.  “Come to work for me, and make coffee like this every day.  I’ll triple what you’re making here.”

Deborah laughed.  “It wasn’t me.  Ianto’s the one in charge of the coffee.”

Jones was giving Harkness a mug, and Tony couldn’t help but notice how their fingers brushed together.  No, he wasn’t about to hire Jones away, but he had to make the offer.  “And how did you know how I took my coffee anyway?”

Jones simply looked inscrutable.  Hell, he out-inscrutabled _Coulson._   “I know everything.  And money doesn’t interest me.”

“Then you are a very unusual man.”

For some reason, that caused every single member of the Torchwood team – including the cops – to laugh like Tony had made the funniest joke in the universe.  He would have been insulted if it wasn’t for the fact that there wasn’t anything condescending in the sound of it.

“On that note,” Swanson-Sato said, “Davidson and I need to get back to work.  Harkness, thanks for inviting us to the party.” 

Jack tipped her a salute, which had the DCI rolling her eyes.  Then, with a quick peck to Toshiko’s lips, she and Davidson were heading out of the really loud door without a backward glance.

With their leaving, the rest of Torchwood broke up and appeared to get back to their jobs, taking places at the various desks around the main ‘office’ area – and Harper and the two Milligans heading down into a recessed area Tony couldn’t see into from where he was standing – leaving Jack, Jones, and Deborah as the only three with Tony. 

“To answer your earlier question,” Deborah said, “I don’t mind you knowing.  I honestly don’t think you’ll be telling anyone.”

Tony had to admit that, no, there really wasn’t anyone he would tell. 

“And anyone else?” he wanted to know. 

Jack and Jones passed a couple of weighty looks between the two of them, then Jack said, “Sorry, it’s above your clearance level.”

“I’d think that all this,” Tony waved his free hand about the base, “is above my clearance level.”

“Don’t worry,” Jones assured him, “we’ll have you sign the Official Secrets Act before you leave.”

“And if I don’t?” the genius challenged.

Jack’s friendly smile went sharp.  “Then you won’t remember ever meeting any of us.”

Well, that wasn’t a little bit scary.  No, not at all. 

Yes, it was.

Because Tony was positive that they could make good on that threat.  That, somehow, they could make him forget all about Torchwood.  JARVIS would remember, of course, but Toshiko Sato worked for Torchwood, and she’d had enough of a grasp on Tony’s work to find a way around it, of that he was certain.  He would usually have the utmost confidence in his own security, but in this case…not so much.

And Tony wanted to remember.

He wanted to know all about Torchwood, as much as they would tell him.  He wanted to help them with their tech needs and to take Toshiko out for dinner and pick her brains on what sorts of alien technology she’d worked on.  Okay, yeah, he’d invite her wife as well, because Swanson was a cop and she was damned scary.  He wanted to make sure they knew that Iron Man was at their disposal anytime they needed him.

Fuck, he wanted some more of this blessedly wonderful coffee.

So, he smirked, took another sip from his mug, and said, “Then let’s get this paperwork thing going.  I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

 

_Fin_


End file.
